Nachezehrer
by yubitsume
Summary: Dear diary, I think that I'm going insane. My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt and it's been nearly a year since my younger brother's suicide. I've been hearing voices, seeing things I shouldn't. People are dying... I don't know what's happening, but... I think I might be next... Warnings: Cursing, death, twisted themes, violence, psychological stuff, ect. NOT Germancest.


_Dear Diary,_

_It's been nearly a year since my brother's suicide. Things are changing. It's an odd, empty feeling. The thought of going on without my brother leaves me feeling like a jackass. Of course, that's what everybody always tells me, but not about this. Not about him._

...

The prison looked different from how it usually did. Somehow, the fences looked more menacing, the grounds, more littered. Of course, Gilbert had never enjoyed coming here, but the occasional trip had become like a dreaded holiday for him. Unfortunately, while others had to deal with crappy presents and slightly annoying relatives, Gilbert had to face a man that indirectly killed his brother.

What was most unfortunate, is that this man shared his brother's face and that that man was also their father.

The standard met the albino when he entered the facility. He was scanned and searched like all of the other visits and likewise, the guards came up empty handed. They waved him off, without a problem, to the visiting room.

The room, much like you'd see in the movies, owned a row of glass windows, sealed tightly to keep the filth on the other side from escaping through the cracks. Gilbert sat at one of them- the one farthest in the room- and waited.

He carried a heavy feeling with him. It felt like he was burning. Like his insides were twisting and crying at the same time. His hands were shaking, his pupils constricting, his gut quivering in unmet anticipation. Looking around the room, he saw all the same. The people with the recievers pressed to their lobes, their eyes gaurding their souls while their tongues holding their hurt and their anger.

Empty. They were all empty. And so was he.

Movement behind the glass caught his eye. He looked back towards it to see his brother's face.

If it had not been for the defining wrinkles and lighter eyes of an older man, Gilbert would have been convinced that his younger brother was really the one looking at him. The love that that coaxed made Gilbert die a little more on the inside.

He reluctnantly picked up the reciever, as did his father.

They each said nothing, their firey and icey eyes never leaving the other's.

The younger man couldn't help but ask what the point was of all of this? He knew for sure that he wouldn't give a damn if this man left, never to be seen again. He knew that this wouldn't bring Ludwig back. It didn't do anything.

Yet, he was here.

His father's face...it held no remorse. It almost mocked him, as if saying, "I did these horrible things and I enjoyed them. I don't feel bad. I don't care what you or anybody else thinks of me. You are nothing and so was your brother."

Gilbert had to grip the arm of the chair to keep from lunging at the man on the other side of the window. Alvar, as vigilant as ever, must have spotted this.

"You're looking well." His words poked at Gilbert like he was an itching scab. And so he bled.

"Go to hell." His eyes flashed with restrained furry.

Alvar said nothing, appearing to find the words not unsavory _but unsatisfactory._

Gilbert pondered on showering the blond with the rest of his hate in a colorful array of curses and profanities, but for some reason, held back. It was like talking to a def person. None, of these words, no matter if they were from desperation or hate or hurt- they never reached their father. Even as kids, Gilbert recalled Ludwig keeping away from their father and never opening up to him. The punishments they would receive were always cruel beyond the conventional standards, so it was an understandable behavior. Being forced to press a thin nail into their palm when they talked back, having to stay in their rooms for two whole days without food or water when their grades didn't meet expectations. These were only some of Alvar's methods to keep his sons in check.

But that was after Gilbert and his mother had come to live with them. By the time of the two adults' wedding day, Ludwig was already six years old and very very timid. He couldn't imagine what the boy had been through before he had come into his life and what he had been through...after...

Gilbert shoved away the memories and the desire to hurt himself. No, he would much rather hurt the man staring at him as if he were a lab rat.

"You are blaming me, Gilbert. Bestilling all of your hate, as well as all of your love in one person will blind you."

"Shut up!" Gilbert screamed into the phone connected to the wall. The absurdity of the whole situation caused him to laugh a hollow laugh and for tears to fall on his jeans. Alvar merely studied him.

"You think you're god, don't you? That you can just walk all over people. Play with them like dolls until you get tired of them and decided to throw them away!"

"I didn't pull the trigger, Gilbert."

"No, but you practically handed it to him, you sick fucking piece of shit!" Gilbert slammed his shaking hand against the glass. "He-" Gilbert's voice cracked. "I-I loved him. He was like a son to me. He was the only thing I had after my mother died. The only thing! And you...you..."

Unable to take it any longer, the albino allowed the phone to slip from his fingers and for his tear-soaked face to drop into his hands.

The other two times had had visited, he wasn't even able to do this, to speak to Alvar- not after figuring out what he had done to Ludwig. But now that he had finally built up the courage, everything was pouring out of Gilbert like a waterfall.

Oh god, if other people had seen him like this...

"I hate you." He spoke softly, although the phone was too far away from his lips for the messege to be transfered. Still, he somehow thought that the imprisoned man on the other side could feel it- not that he cared.

Minutes passed before Gilbert was able to lift his head.

The monster was still staring at him, the telephone in its same position on his defined cheek bones.

Not giving a damn anymore, Gilbert lifted up his receiver and continued with their conversation.

"What I want to know...is why? Was Ludwig not a good son to you? Did he not catter to your every whim- kneel at your fucking feet? !" His eyes narrowed. "Was he nothing more than a damned gerbil to you?"

This actually brought a smile to Alvar's face. Was he enjoying this?

"Ludwig was a good son and that's exactly why I did what I did. You however, are unloyal." He pierced the albino with his words. Gilbert felt his heart skip a beat.

"You never did as I asked. You always acted as if nothing was above you. You even ran when things got too difficult in life. A coward indeed." He scoffed. "You had too much pride like a real narcasist should. Ludwig, however, had no soul, no mind of his own. The one that you claim to have loved was merely a reflection of your own- something that he had borrowed."

"Shut...shut up. I...I didn't run."

Alvar let out a certain amount of air from his barely parted lips. He was laughing. "That is like saying that you're not breathing right at this moment." His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards the glass that seperated them. "Do you not see what's happening right in front of you? You came to this place with your usual confidence and tried to use my current state to your advantage. However, I've turned the tables back on you using only the turth. Am I really the villan here?"

**"I SAID SHUT UP!"**

Right at that moment, the clock at his end of the room gave a trill that indicated the end of visiting hours. His shoulders stiffened, as if he couldn't believe the reality that was happening before him. As the other visitors gathered their things and the gaurds gathered the prisoners on the other side, the look of triumph on Alvar's face became apparent.

He had won. He would always win.

Gilbert stared back at those souless eyes like he'd never stare at any others.

They laughed at him-pitied him.

"Don't let your mind paly tricks on you, my gullible son." He spoke finally before hanging up the phone and allowing the prison gaurd to take his away.

It wasn't until a gaurd reminded him that he had to leave that the paralyzed feeling had worn off. Gilbert's head struggled to turn on its neck as he stood up, using the chair as support for his feebled limbs.

It wasn't until he got back out to his car that he was able to breath again. The deathening scream that came from his throat didn't even reach his ears to wake him up his brain again.

He couldn't abandon this feeling of hopelessness- the look that that man had given him.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today, I think I've met true evil. _

**...**

**I just made this on a whim really. I wanted to try out horror because I think that I'm skilled at writing dark things. **

**I hope that you guys liked it. I'll continue soon, but if anything confused you the slightest bit, you can just ask and as long as it won't reveal anything vital to the plot, then I'm sure that I can clear it up for you. **

**And don't worry, the story will reveal itself more as it goes along.**

**I don't own Hetalia and have a very pasta day!**


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